


I Need A Drink

by orpheous87



Series: Drarropoly 2019 [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Auror Ron Weasley, Curses, Draco Malfoy is Dramatic, M/M, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/pseuds/orpheous87
Summary: Draco is cursed while on a job with Harry.Written for the prompt: Harry or Draco is cursed and thinks they are werewolf. Minimum: 506 words - Maximum: 906.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarropoly 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548649
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64
Collections: Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest





	I Need A Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to [GalliifreyisBurning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyisBurning/works) for betaing and helping me to wrangle this so that it's under the word count! ❤️

“Harry!” 

Harry whipped around at the stricken call from Draco. His eyes widened at the blood spreading across Draco’s shirt, and he sprang across the room. 

“What happened?” 

“I… I don’t know,” Draco stuttered, pressing his hand to the wound. “S-some kind of curse before you caught him.” 

“Let me see,” Harry replied, gently moving Draco’s hand aside and pushing the material up. He stifled a gasp as the crescent-shaped wound on Draco’s side was revealed, angry, red, and gently seeping blood. 

“What is it?” Draco asked, peering at it worriedly. 

“I-it looks like…” Harry started, before glancing up at Draco. “...like a bite.” 

“A bite?” Draco asked, his worried expression turning fearful. 

“Don’t panic,” Harry said quickly. “It might be nothing.” 

“Well it can’t be good, can it?” Draco asked, staring down at the wound. 

“No, probably not,” Harry agreed reluctantly, “but we don’t know anything yet. We should get you to St. Mungo’s.” 

“What about him?” Draco asked, nodding over Harry’s shoulder at the unconscious man lying on the floor. 

Harry pulled his wand out and muttered an incantation, watching as the familiar silver stag materialized. “Go to the Ministry; tell Ron there’s a wizard here to collect,” he directed. The stag bowed and turned, cantering away.

Soon, with a crack, Ron appeared beside them. He blinked down at the prone wizard, then looked up at Harry and Draco, his eyes widening at the blood slowly spreading across Draco’s shirt. “What happened?” 

“He,” Harry said, nudging the wizard with his foot, “cursed Draco. I’m taking him to St. Mungo’s. Can you take this bastard back and question him? We weren’t expecting anyone to be here. Check his wand too; see what the curse was and let me know.” 

Ron nodded. “Go,” he said. “I’ll send a Patronus once I’ve checked the wand.”

“Thanks, Ron,” Harry replied, flashing a grateful smile as he slid both arms around Draco, preparing to disapparate. “Ready?” 

When they arrived at St. Mungo’s, a silver Jack Russell was already waiting for them. “The spell was the Lycacomia curse,” it said in Ron’s voice. 

Draco swore. “I’m going to die, aren’t I? They’ll kill me if I’m a werewolf! Just as everyone’s starting to trust me again!”

“They will not,” Harry assured. “And now we can tell the Healers what the curse was. Come on, let’s get you inside.” 

Draco made a small noise but allowed Harry to help him into the hospital, where he was immediately ushered into a room. 

“Alright, what are we dealing with?” a Healer asked as she bustled in, pulling on protective gloves. 

“Lycacomia curse,” Harry said succinctly, before Draco could speak. “We were attacked while investigating reported Dark magic residue.” 

The Healer nodded before turning to Draco, who was sitting on the bed, looking paler than usual. “Okay, where were you hit?” 

“Here,” Draco replied shakily, lifting his shirt to reveal the wound. “Please don’t kill me.” 

“Kill you?” the Healer asked in surprise. “Why would I kill you?” 

“Please don’t listen to him,” Harry sighed. “He’s convinced he’ll be killed if he’s, ah, been turned.” 

The healer looked puzzled. “No-one is going to kill you... and looking at this wound, it’s unlikely that you’ve been ‘turned,’” she assured him.

Draco looked unconvinced. 

“It’s possible though, isn’t it?” Harry asked, taking Draco’s hand. “That’s what the curse does?” 

“Indeed,” the Healer confirmed, “but if the curse had been performed properly, this wound would be much bigger. Did it hit anything before you?” 

Draco shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” the Healer said, “then the wound should be clean. Let me just wash it out.” 

Draco nodded, lying back on the bed, still clutching Harry’s hand hard. 

The Healer made quick work of cleaning the wound and applying a salve that immediately stopped the bleeding and began to heal the skin. 

“Alright,” she said, looking up at Harry and Draco. “I just need to perform some tests to make sure you _haven’t_ been infected with Lycanthropy. This will just take a moment.” 

Draco nodded, staring up at the ceiling, trying to remain calm. 

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand gently, watching the Healer work.

“Well, gentlemen,” the Healer said after what seemed like forever. “I’m pleased to say that you were _not_ infected. Once the wound heals, there should be no trace of the curse.” 

“See,” Harry said softly, squeezing Draco’s hand again, “I told you not to worry.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Draco replied, relief evident.

“I know,” Harry said, smiling and lifting Draco’s hand to kiss his knuckles. “But you’re going to be fine.” 

Draco looked to the Healer. “Why hasn’t it infected me?” 

“Well, my best guess is that the caster mispronounced the incantation,” the Healer replied, removing her gloves, “which is lucky for you. Pronounced correctly, the curse can—and does—induce lycanthropy in the victim. All you need to worry about is the blood on your shirt.” 

“Thank you,” Draco said, sitting up. “Can I go home?” 

“Yes,” the Healer answered, “just take it easy for a couple of days.” 

“I’ll make sure he does,” Harry smiled. “Thank you for seeing him straight away.” 

“Don’t mention it,” the Healer replied with a smile of her own. “Now, get yourselves home.” 

Harry nodded, waiting for Draco to slide off the bed before Apparating them home. 

Upon arrival, Draco looked at Harry. “I—” he announced tiredly, “— need a drink.”


End file.
